Two Families
by Guildenstern3
Summary: Exhausted and on the run, Jin, Mugen, and Fuu look for rest before moving forward...but first they must deal with the past.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Samurai Champloo or any characters associated with it.

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"Damn it." Mugen said. "How did they find us again?"

He ducked against the base of a tree to catch his breath, taking care his body was hidden in the shadows. In nearby Fuu crouched behind a bush. The only sound between them was labored breathing. She shifted the weight of her pack to the other shoulder silently. The were too practiced at being hunted. Across a thin patch of moonlight Jin stood behind another tree. He hazarded a scouting glance back where they had come, but nothing moved and he gave his companions a nod.

"Hey fish-face, you're the native here. Which way?"

There were shouts on the road above, breaking their rest. Torchlights flickered as the shogun's men threaded through the forest. They held their breath as walking shadows passed on all sides. The trio thanked their luck when a clump of dense clouds skimmed the sky, obscuring everything below.

Once the lights faded, Fuu tried again. "Where should we go?" There was no answer. "Jin!"

The corners of Jin's lips tilted down for a moment, then returned to a neutral straight line.

"Follow me." He darted up a nearby embankment. Mugen followed easily; Fuu with a little less agility and grace. By the time she scrambled up, Jin's silhouette had all but disappeared on the other side of a grassy meadow. She almost yelled for him to wait up, but fear kept her silent and she sprinted after him. Jin pressed on for an hour without looking back until he came to a wooden footbridge that arched over a small river. Mugen was at his side and soon enough Fuu crashed through the brush after.

"How did you know this was here?" Fuu asked between gasps.

Jin's gaze drifted across the river. He was anxious to keep moving. "Once we cross we will be in the hills that surround my childhood village."

"We're that close?"

Jin hesitated, inching one foot out onto the bridge, then he squared his shoulders and strode across.

Fuu jerked on Mugen's sleeve. "Does Jin still have family?"

"Huh? How should I know? Go ask him yourself if you wanna know." He raced after, the metal of his shoes echoing on the bridge like wood blocks in kabuki theatre.

The trees became dense and what little light fell from the moon could not filter through the thick canopy. Fuu picked her way carefully through the protruding roots and fallen branches, only falling twice. Mugen and Fuu followed Jin until he stopped suddenly once more. He pointed down into the blackness.

"There's a cave here." Then he vanished.

Mugen put out a hand, looking for edges. He pushed away vines and dead leaves. Fuu could hear him grinning. "Whaddaya know, there's a cave here."

Fuu knocked her head on the rock ceiling as she entered. "Ow! Where are you?"

"Keep walking. 'S not very big."

Three steps later Fuu kicked Mugen's shin. "Watch it!"

"Sorry." Afraid to move further, Fuu sat down right where she was on the mossy rocks. "Now what?"

Jin's voice came gently out of the dark. "Now we wait."

"We...wait. You serious? I thought we were regrouping or something. We can take them if we pick them off."

"No, we can't."

"Maybe you can't, skinny, but I've got skills for this kind of thing. Pirate, remember?"

"No, we can't. These are not undisciplined Yakuza. I recall a young ninja named Yatsuha who got the upper hand over you not too long ago."

"I should have never told you that."

"He sent Sara. He sent the Hand of God. We wait."

Mugen shifted, but didn't get up from his nest amongst the rotting leaves. "Coward."

Jin didn't reply. He was already meditating in the hopes that Mugen would stop speaking if not encouraged. The only sound for a long time was Mugen picking at his teeth.

"Jin?" Fuu hazarded.

"Hn?"

"How did you know this was here?"

"I- used to play in these woods as a child. The cave seemed much larger then."

"Oh." Fuu tried to imagine Jin as a child, but no matter his age Fuu could not see Jin laughing and playing with other children. The stoic eyes she had come to know so well still hid so many secrets. They seemed as permanent and unshakable as the mountains he came from.

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It had been mere days after leaving the island the three separated companions realized the shogun was not the type to let things go. After the Hand of God and the three brothers were dead Seizo's servant hid them well. He was used to it, and knew the island well. Some of the shogun's dogs crawled across the island looking for Fuu. But they eventually decided all three had died in the beach explosion. No one knew that the brothers were there, and so no one could identify the far flung limbs scattered on the shore. They assumed the rest had washed away with the tide. A month later when the companions went their separate ways, they hoped traveling alone would make them invisible. But it was too late. Fuu, Mugen, and Jin were too infamous in too many places. Of course Mugen was the first to be spotted in a brothel by the sea. He held a sword to the brothel owner's throat and claimed only the ugly girls had been brought out for him. The trail of government officials he left bloodied behind him only drew more eyes.

It had been easy for Mugen to find Fuu- he checked every dumpling stand and half-rate tea house on the road back to Edo. Jin had been harder. Mugen found it impossible to "think like Jin." Fuu finally suggested they look for the twins. In the center of Edo, they found Jin- they actually ran into him as he darted through the square chased by four skilled swordsmen clutching his side.

"Jin!" Fuu grabbed his arm and pulled him into a person-width space between two buildings. He blinked at her in surprise, then collected himself.

"Stay behind me." Jin ordered.

Fuu looked from side to side at the walls six inches from her face. "Where else am I gonna go?"

The tight space was the advantage Jin needed. These men were no match for him one at a time. His wounds had not fully healed and he doubted they ever would. The handicap stilted his speed, but his mind remained his sharpest weapon. He cut them down one corpse on top of the other with efficiency using each body as an obstacle for the next challenger. As the last man fell Jin tensed. Another silhouette turned into the alley, sword above his head.

"Aw man, you didn't leave me any. Fuu with you?"

"Right here!" she yelled over his shoulder.

Distant police whistles began to blow.

"Let's go, bitches." Mugen bounded over bodies and they sprinted out the other end of the alley. They ducked behind a cart stacked high with rice flour.

"How did you know to look for me?"

"'Cause I found them first, dumb-ass."

"The Shogun?"

Mugen cracked his knuckles behind his head. "Looks like we aren't as dead as they wanted."

Fuu was biting her lip in silence, which was very un-Fuu-like.

"Is there something you wish to say?" Jin asked as he wiped sweat droplets from his eyes.

"Nothing it's just- I'm sorry for getting you involved in this. If I'd known how dangerous it would be I never would have forced you to come. Maybe I never would have looked for the samurai- for my father."

Jin placed a hand on her shoulder, his brow furrowed.

"And miss all this? No way, girlie. We better get movin' though. I wanna be ready for the next round."


	2. Chapter 2

They went north to the mountains and ended up here. Hiding in a shallow cave made of root and rock was not where they imagined they would end up, and it wasn't in their nature. The constant scratch of Mugen's restless fingers on whatever surface he could find made Jin's eyebrow twitch. They were fighters anxious for their chance to demonstrate their skill, but their opponent was elusive- invisible.

"Mugen," Fuu's voice pierced the long silence. "I really hope that's you."

"What's me?"

"On my leg."

"You wish."

"Didn't think so."

"Ow, ow! Stop flailing around, you just kicked me in the shin _again_."

"Sorry." Fuu's stomach made a ravenous noise that vibrated the cave walls. "So hungry. It's been two days. Is there anything near here, like a town or something? Someplace we haven't ever, ever been before?"

"No." Jin said.

"Auggh." Fuu sighed and fell against a slime-covered rock, no longer caring what creatures she shared her space with. The thought of more hunger-filled days stretching in front of them made her stomach rumble in protest. Fuu was not the only one suffering. Even though they would never admit it, Jin and Mugen were both worn thin by the constant running. Neither had recovered enough from their injuries to endure this relentless pace.

The three fugitives froze when someone shuffled through leaves just outside the cave mouth. They held their breath until the sound moved on.

"I hate this." Mugen gritted his teeth.

"Hn."

Exhaustion and the steady drip of water against rock lulled them to sleep. Fuu was the first to awaken. She was somehow entangled in a foreign leg and arm, but who they belonged to she couldn't tell. Fuu laid them aside with care and poked her head through the curtain of vines. A morning mist wound through the trees as the first vestiges of dawn tinted the sky purple and gray. Mugen appeared next to her.

He shook and stretched his aching muscles and stepped out. "No sign of 'em. I'm gonna look for food."

"Mugen wait." Fuu tumbled out after him. "We don't know it's safe. Maybe you should wait a while."

Mugen snorted. "It's never safe, and that's they way I like it. See ya." He faded into the mist.

Fuu didn't notice Jin come up beside her. "There is a stream nearby. Perhaps it will yield something." He walked in the opposite direction of Mugen.

"With our luck and your fishing skills? I doubt it." Fuu muttered.

Jin pretended not to hear her.

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It caught Mugen's eye as it gleamed in ripe, succulent beauty. A peach hung heavy from its tree, bowing the branch with its weight. It floated just on the other side of a wide dirt path. He licked his lips and scanned right to left. As he listened for the sound of people he shook out his hair. Something had slept in it last night that wouldn't come loose. He would deal with that problem later. Right now his stomach was the only thing he cared about. He sprinted across the path, plucked the peach from the tree, and shoved it into his mouth hole, spitting the seed. In a matter of seconds it was gone and another beauty called to him the next branch over. After his sixth there were no more low-hanging fruits. He lept up and grabbed a branch. His free hand reached for a plump little number at the tree's heart as he hung. Just as his greedy fingers closed around it, a voice boomed at him from down the path.

"There's one over there!"

"Son of a bitch." He dropped to the ground into a crouching position and drew his sword. He counted the gathering force: only seven. Easy. His mouth tilted into a crooked grin. "Come on and give it your best shot. Maybe I'll even let ya live."

They all ran at him as one, trying to pin him down.

 _So first I need to split them up_.

He flipped onto one hand and spun his spindly legs like a pinwheel while slashing his sword with the other. He caught one fighter in the leg with his blade and sent a second flying back from a thudding kick in the gut. The seven hesitated, but instead of scattering as he expected they encircle him. They were fighting as one and closing the space around him. Mugen needed room to work for his particular style. He went for the wounded one first and surprised them with his sudden aggression. The wounded man parried twice, but Mugen caught him on his open side and the man's blood slicked Mugen's blade just the way he liked it. Mugen took the opportunity to break out of the circle.

One down. "Thanks for the warm-up."

Now with all the space he could want he took two from behind, slicing wildly at the soft parts of their backs. He caught one clean while the other just got a deep gash. Mugen cursed his month of idleness for the mistake. He gave them a feral growl and at least they had the smarts to look afraid. The five reformed and charged him. The bright song of metal on metal rang out and he was pushed back by the assault. Now off balance, he lost the upper hand. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the bastards slip behind him as he spun to catch the largest swinging a sword at his chest. The man who slipped behind sliced him across the shoulder blade clean and deep. Mugen felt the muscle split apart with searing pain. He grit his teeth and switched his sword to his other hand. Ducking low, he slammed his blade all the way to the hilt into the coward that got him.

Over the blood pumping in his ears he heard Fuu's terrified voice "Mugen!"

The sword was harder to grip through the accumulating blood and sweat. He wished he had his old sword back. It would never let him down like this. With silent speed Jin flew into the path and cut down two men with his quick, efficient Mujuu style. Only two left.

"Took ya long enough. You finally finished counting flower petals?"

"Hn."

"Tell you want, we'll split 'em. One for you, one for me."

Jin nodded. "That's fair."

"Alright lets- hey, where are you goin'?"

The two assassins were running like their lives depended on it.

"Come back here!" Mugen yelled. But instead of chasing them, he pulled at his arm and craned his neck awkwardly to get a better view of his newest wound. A stream of blood dripped on the ground from the ends of his fingers. "That was a cheap trick, to run while I wasn't looking. Dirty. Gotta admire that."

The turning made his head spin and he tipped forward. As Mugen started to fall, Jin caught him under the arm.

"Mugen!" Fuu sprang from her hiding place and tucked her small frame neatly under his other arm."

"'S not that bad, is it?" Mugen tried to make a fist with his hand, but it would only tremble. Something important had been severed. He swallowed hard to cover the wave of panic in his belly. Without his sword, what would be left? A washed up pirate and not much else.

Jin peeled back the vagrant's gi and inspected the wound. "Perhaps not on it's own, but added to your yet unhealed ones it may… become a problem."

"Yeah, I don't have a lot of blood left to lose, do I?" The edges of his vision started to fade and his body felt crushed by a burning heat emanating from his chest.

"Let's get off the road. The cave is no good for this, Jin. Is there anywhere else we can go?"

Jin's eyebrows collided as the three limped into the underbrush. They left a trail of blood Jin hoped would not be too obvious.

"Jin?" Fuu asked again.

Jin looked at Mugen. The color had drained from his tan face leaving him a sickly green. He knew too well what that meant. No matter the cost, a decision had to be made. "Yes. I know a place."

"It's about damn time." Mugen's voice was soft and slurred. Fuu darted a look at Jin, but he was staring straight ahead with a slow but determined gate as they wound through the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Samurai Champloo

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Mid-morning the tree line broke and the three weary fugitives stood on the edge of a deep valley with a town at its center. A single dirt road penetrated the town's high stone wall through a gate, but from their vantage point they could see hundreds of people bustling within.

"This was here the whole time? I bet they have a fantastic inn. Why did we have to sleep with crawly things again?" Fuu asked between gasping breaths. Mugen was getting heavier by the second as he wasn't walking so much as being dragged along.

"Because we are hunted criminals." Jin replied.

Fuu wasn't deterred. "Yeah but we used to be _clean_. Now we're hunted criminals _and_ we're covered in blood and dirt like we're wearing a big sign that says 'arrest me, I'm obviously crazed and dangerous.' The gatekeeper will never let us in like this."

Fuu had a long streak of mud across her face where she had wiped away sweat and the left side of her dress had a waterfall blood stain. Jin doubted he looked much better.

"An opportunity will present itself, if we are patient."

Mugen's head fell forward and Fuu readjusted to keep him upright. "I'm with skinny. Sitting down is a genius plan."

They made their way down the hill, careful not to be seen. Jin left Mugen and Fuu in a copse of pagoda trees and crept down to the road's edge. Traffic in and out of the town was sparse, and was mostly comprised of single farmers and merchants. Three of the Shogun's dogs marched past Jin headed for the gate, accosting every traveller they came across obviously looking for them. The gate itself was a hundred meters away, and as expected the guards spoke with every person who wanted entry. The guardsmen bowed to the approaching samurai and listened intently to what their leader had to say. Jin could easily guess he was giving them a detailed description of three violent fugitives in the area.

The ronin considered leading his companions across the valley to some well-camouflaged springs he remembered, but even if Mugen made it all the way there, which was doubtful, there would be no clean bandages and no hope of gathering supplies. Jin didn't know much about medicine, but he knew that wouldn't work. No, they had to find a way into town, no matter the risks and no matter the consequences. Even so, they couldn't do anything from here.

Jin stole back to the copse. "We will move further from the town's entrance."

A raspy whine came from Mugen who sat against a tree. Fuu had wrapped a strip from her juban roughly around Mugen's shoulder, but blood was quickly seeping through. Jin suddenly wondered how many of Fuu's undergarments had been sacrificed to keep someone from bleeding to death. His mind started to tally them in an absent, detached way when Fuu's voice brought him back to the moment.

"Stop your whining, Mugen." Fuu's voice was harsh but she was at Mugen's side the moment he tried to move.

"There's a sharp bend in the road down there where it splits. We will go _quietly_." Jin said.

Fuu humphed at his obvious slight and offered Mugen a hand up. He pushed it away "I don't need you, girl."

After several attempts he managed to stand, one hand gripping the tree's trunk and the other uselessly dangling at his side. He refused to look at Fuu, knowing the sympathy he would see there. He hated that look, especially since she was right. He must look pathetic.

When Jin slipped under Mugen's good arm and started to drag him along, he barely raised a grunt in protest. It was taking everything he had to remain upright. They turned off the main road to a smaller one that branched to the south. Jin set Mugen down as gently as he could.

"Watch it, will ya? Bastard." But not gently enough for some ingrates, it seemed.

It was Fuu spotted their chance. She pointed up path. "Look, Jin."

A two-wheeled cart stacked with a pyramid of barrels came into view. Jin arched an elegant eyebrow at her.

"We can hide in the barrels." Fuu explained.

"Are you sure? They don't look sized for humans."

"Trust me. This won't be my first time in a barrel."

Jin couldn't help the miniscule quirk of his lip. Only Fuu could say that sentence and mean it. Fuu turned her attention to the problem at hand, chewing on the end of her little finger. "The only problem is how to get into them."

"I'll handle that." Jin stood but Fuu grabbed his sleeve edge to stop him.

"Wait. I'll handle it. If you handle it he'll end up dead."

"That's not true."

"When's the last time you said 'I'll handle it' and no one died?"

Jin thought for a long moment. "Hm."

"Exactly. Just...just turn around, okay? And don't let Mugen peek."

Jin didn't think there was anything in this world Mugen hadn't seen already. If the pirate couldn't see it, it probably shouldn't happen. "This is not a good idea."

"You don't even know what it is."

"That is irrelevant."

"Just turn around already!"

Jin sighed but decided it wasn't worth fighting over. Fuu could try her plan first, then he would try his. The worst that could happen is the cart man would die and he would get yelled at for a week or so. His options were: yelling now, or yelling later. He turned around and blocked Mugen's view-not that he was conscious enough to pay attention- and opted for yelling later.

When Fuu was sure they weren't looking she slipped off her kimono and grimaced at the Mugen's-shoulder-sized hole in her dingy underwear. She slipped a fist-sized rock under her arm and shimmied up a broad, leafy tree. She edged out onto an ancient branch that arced over the path like a canopy. Fuu held the rock out, stuck out her tongue for good balance, and hovered in perfect stillness so as not to shake the branch. As the cart man to pulled underneath the tree she let the rock fall. It was a perfect shot that caught him right on top of the head. The cart man toppled to the ground with barely a grunt.

Fuu had to thank her newly developed fighting skills for her aim...skills she developed all on her own because Mugen and Jin were useless and it hadn't occurred to them to give her at least some basic pointers. She had a moment of panic when the cart almost rolled over the man's leg, but Jin caught the back corner and stopped it.

Jin checked the man's breathing. "You could have killed him."

"Yeah, I might have. But you're a sure thing. And don't look! You're looking!"

Jin ignored her and pulled down three barrels. They had better hurry before someone else appeared on the path. Recently roadways had not been their ally.

Fuu cracked open the first barrel "It's full of sake!"

Fuu lept back from the splash as Mugen appeared out of nowhere next to her and submerged his entire head into the barrel.

"We don't have time, stupid." She kicked over the barrel with his head still in it. Sake poured like a river into a ditch.

Mugen gave a little sob of mourning before rolling onto his side, his last reserves of energy spent in his mad lunge. Tripping in her haste, Fuu shoved Mugen into a barrel while he muttered something about stupid girls who don't know treasure when they see it. Jin lifted the barrel on the cart, then Fuu climbed in the next and Jin replaced the lid for her. Jin climbed to the top of the pyramid and held his lid in place. For a long time nothing happened. There was no sound except Mugen's almost imperceptible snoring. Finally Jin climbed out, teeth gritted, and strode over to the cart man. He nudged the man's leg to no response. Jin folded his arms and looked around, but saw no immediate solution. Cursing Fuu's ridiculous plan, he slapped the man hard across the face. The man gave a hacking moan and Jin scrambled back into his barrel as fast as he could with practiced grace.

The man sat up and looked around. He gingerly tested the knot on his throbbing head, and his fingers came away crusted in dry blood. Next to him lay a rock with a condemning streak of red on it. The cart man looked at the rock, then he looked at the tree. Then he looked at the rock again. Then he looked at the tree. Once he decided neither one would give up their secrets any time soon, he stood up and grabbed the cart's handle again. By the position of the sun he had lost a bit of time, and his son wasn't going to believe him when he told him why he was late.

He passed through the gate with haste, offering the guards a friendly, familiar nod. He threaded through the streets to the back of the family inn where he was greeted by a reedy, irate, and entirely ungrateful young man he loathed to call his child. By the time the cart man settled things with his son and went back to unload his purchase, three of his barrels were empty, but strangely enough there was no sign of spilled sake anywhere. A mental image of the horde of drunks required to accomplish such a feat in the few minutes he was gone flash across his mind. The number was mind-boggling, and his son was sure to accuse him of drinking the whole lot. As he could not expect his day to take a turn for the better, he cracked open a fourth barrel and set to work on it. His son could go to hell.


	4. Chapter 4

Jin's first priority was to steal clothes for and Fuu and himself. The cart man's son and his wife were a great help with that, as they were both occupied with brow-beating his father to notice them sneak through the house. It was a pretty impressive amount of yelling and stomping to not see two vagrants who reeked of sake drag a bleeding man through the middle of their house. Jin took the son's very best hakama as a small act of vengeance on the part of the old man. Fuu tucked their own clothing into a tight bundle on her back. Once Jin got his bearings in the opposite ally, he realized their good luck.

"We're only two streets away. We can go behind these gardens to get there. Come on."

 _Get where?,_ Fuu wondered.

They retook position under each of Mugen's arms and Jin covered his friend's head with his ronin-gasa. Halfway down the street Fuu realized they were drawing curious looks from locals. A discrete getaway was out of the question, and killing a bunch of people wasn't going to solve their problems, despite what Mugen thought.

Fuu remembered the poor, beleaguered man she had recently knocked unconscious. "Drunk again?" She shrilled in her best nagging voice. As a practiced nagger herself, it came out the perfect pitch of shattered glass. "Every town we get to your first thought is to get wasted! It took me all morning to find your stupid carcass. Now you reek of sake! What am I going to tell the children? Hmm? What do you have to say for yourself, you bum."

Fuu even managed to produce tears to match her wailing. She would hate to admit out loud how good it felt to yell at Mugen without him in a position to yell back. If it weren't for the immediate peril they were in it would feel like a dream come true. At the end of the second street Jin stopped without warning at an ancient stone gate.

"In here."

"Here?" They were at the threshold of an impressive if aging estate Fuu guessed was meant to house the family of an esteemed samurai. The facade was showing signs of wear with chipped wood beams and fading paint, and the whole structure leaned slightly to the right. Still, the walkway was clean and the porch recently polished. The home was well kept and gave the impression of a cherished elder well cared for in its later years.

Jin was already turning inside the gate and the still bewildered Fuu had to follow or risk losing her grip on Mugen. Before they even arrived at the steps, the door flew open with a clack. A round-edged woman with a wide, open face and paradoxically beady eyes buried within it appeared. Her arms resembled looped dough slung across her chest and imposing hips flared under her kimono like the trunk of a well-rooted tree. She folded her dough arms and glared at them from the threshold. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Jin bowed as best he could with Mugen's weight. "Good morning. I am a- I know Takeda Daiki and I- my friend is in need of a-."

To Fuu's surprise, Jin wilted under the woman's stare. He had faced unblinking Kariya Kagetoki, but the beady-eyed woman had stolen his composure. Maybe the hunger was getting to him. It was certainly getting to her. Fuu flicked him in the arm with her free hand.

"What he's trying to ask is may we come in?"

The woman's eyes narrowed to slits, wholly focused on Jin. He attempted to look friendly, but wasn't sure how to go about it.

"Yeah sure. Why not?" She turned back into the house, scolding them as she went. "Another of Daiki's sword-happy friends, eh? What happened: got some trouble with gambling debts? You're not the first of that no-good fool's rabble to stumble on my doorstep. He sent you here, didn't he? Typical. He's probably rolling out of some whorehouse gutter this very second."

A meek girl about Fuu's age with long, drooping features that gave her a dreamy look appeared in the open space the woman left at the door.

"Go home for the day, Shiori. For the next few days. Take Takashi with you." The girl's head tilted on a slow hinge from her mistress to the three strangers. She didn't seem particularly interested in any of them, or in obeying the woman. Fuu found that remarkable, as her gut jumped to comply every time the woman opened her mouth. "Go, Shiori!" The girl finally disappeared in no apparent hurry.

Jin pulled Mugen toward the steps without sparing Fuu a glance.

"Are you sure about this?" Fuu asked, and urgent worry lifting her voice a few tones.

"No." He replied without slowing his progress.

She led them to the back of the house and into a bare tatami-floored room.

"Lay him here." She slid back a door and pointed to a futon inside. "I'll get bandages and water. You're on your own from there."

"Thank you." Fuu disentangled herself from Mugen who fell with a grunt. "My name is Fuu and this is-"

"Sousuke." Jin interrupted. "My name is Sousuke."

The woman ran her tongue across the the uneven surface of her top teeth. "Sure it is. I'm Yuki, Daiki's unfortunate wife."

She slammed the door shut and left them stunned.

"What a strange lady." Fuu said.

 _Strange enough to let us in without a single question_ , Jin thought.

Fuu pulled off Mugen's gi with swift but gentle hands. "What an idiot. What was he thinking?"

"Running isn't in his nature. It was inevitable."

"It isn't your nature either, but you're not charging every samurai and ninja in the mountains."

"But I would not step aside should one approach me. That is not in _my_ nature."

The wound was worse than either of them thought. Mugen was cut through to his shoulder bones and ribcage. Fuu held her breath to keep her hands from shaking as she plucked larger bits of grass and leaves out of it. As she pulled away crusted blood Mugen made unconscious sounds that were something between a whimper and a growl. After a few minutes the formidable Yuki re-emerged with water and a bundle of rags.

"What did you do, roll him down a hillside first? On top of that I don't know if we can get the stench of sake out of him if we threw him in the river. Some friends you are." But despite her tone she pressed the rags tenderly into the deepest part of the cut, pulling back when he winced. "He's really out of it. Can't blame him. Fuu, was it? You a prostitute?" Fuu opened her mouth to protest, but Yuki steamrolled ahead not giving her a chance. "Nevermind, I don't even want to know. Just don't practice your trade back here. Help me lay these out."

Fuu pressed down her indignation to focus on the task at hand. She hurried to Yuki's other side and spread the clean bandages out so they would be ready to use. It was bothering Fuu that Mugen had said so little since the sake incident. Sure, he usually communicated with grunts and growls like a wild animal, but those noises were usually accompanied by curses.

Yuki gave a low whistle as she inspected the wound herself. "We'll need to wrap him up as soon as possible. That's a lot of scars he's carrying around. Must be a lucky guy."

"Something like that." Fuu said.

As Fuu busied herself with with task Yuki set for her, Jin receded into the corner of the room and sunk into deep meditation. There was nothing for him to do at this point, and he had a feeling much would be required of him later. He would watch for signs of danger, for now.

Fuu ran her palm across Mugen's cheek. "He's burning up."

She began cleaning the wound in earnest with the hot water Yuki brought.

"Yeah, but there's not much to do about it. Keep him cool. You keep an eye on him and he'll be fine. From the way you're working it looks like you've done this before." Yuki stood, drying her hands absentmindedly on her kimono. "Without Shiori the domestics are up to me, so I'll leave you to it." With that Yuki left them.

The quiet room was sonically disjointed. Jin's eyes were closed and his breathing was steady with his wrists resting on his knees, while Mugen's breathing was a rasp. The unmatched cadence was getting on Fuu's last nerve. She wiped the gathering sweat from Mugen's hair and directed her frustration toward Jin. "What good are you, you jerk? Can't you do something?"

Jin opened one eye. "You are the more skilled in this field. I leave it to your ample knowledge." He closed his eyes again.

Fuu tossed their last coin that happened to be in hidden in her bindings at Jin and nailed him in the middle of his forehead. Even though he didn't flinch, she was quite pleased with herself. Her aim was becoming excellent.

Fuu grabbed supplies from her pack and rummaged through them until she found a jar of green paste. "Yeah well, I didn't get that skill by choice, did I? Why can't you two keep all your body parts intact? It's not that hard for normal people."

"Hn."

Fuu had more important things to do than yell at Jin, but he made it so tempting.


	5. Chapter 5

In his meditations, Jin's mind often drifted to familiar rooms warm with the effort of transforming reedy boys into skilled warriors. The dojo of his childhood was a place of comfort, even if the edges of its memory were tainted with blood dishonorably shed. He mentally counted through his stances, allowing the monotony to relax him so he might answer a question that plagued him. But sometimes memories so strong-scented were hard to control.

" _Jin, hold."_

 _His child self, long backed and thin limbed like a praying mantis, instantly responded to the command. He balanced a wooden practice sword above his head- statuesque- hoping to look calm and confident in his frozen state. His opponent, a boy three years older than he, also halted in the midst of his defense against Jin's elegant onslaught. His chest pumped like a bellows as he used the pause to catch his breath._

 _Enshirou Mariya wove his way through sparing students, careful not to slip on the streak of sweat where one of his less promising pupils had fallen moments before. Mariya took Jin's wrist and turned it slightly to the left. The boy Jin deflated so slightly that only his master would see the change. Even though Jin wanted to sneak a glance up at Mariya to try and assess his intent, he held still as instructed. Jin was eager to please, and knew he hid it poorly._

 _Mariya took a step back to fully take in the shape of their spar. Jin was leaning forward, shoulders balanced, back straight. His opponent, by comparison, looked like a crumpled, damp sheet of paper with a sword. "What is your next move?"_

 _Jin blinked twice and shifted his gaze from his opponent to his teacher. He suspected the question was a trap. "If I tell you, isn't that against the lesson?"_

" _Today we practice deceiving our opponents by controlling our bodies, or at least that is what the rest of us are doing." Jin felt his face flush and hoped it would be mistaken for exertion. He was prepared for this lecture, as this was the only lesson in which he never excelled and Mariya made no secret of it. It was infuriating._

" _You don't have to tell me your next move; I already know. Your goal is here." Enshirou Maryia pointed a calloused hand to Jin's opponent's right side just below his ribcage._

 _Jin caught himself biting his lip. That was exactly his intention. For two years he had tried and failed in these exercises, but the other boys his age had failed in them too. Now in the third year he was the only one who couldn't convincingly use misdirection. Hours of practice late into the night had done no good. He could not fient. The other students didn't hide their smirking grins, overjoyed at Jin's continued failure. Jin told himself it didn't matter. Every one of them would feel the crack of his wooden sword in turn._

 _Enshirou Mariya rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. It was a habitual gesture Jin would pick up in the years to come. "Come with me."_

 _He guided Jin outside the dojo. "The rest of you continue!" Mariya barked as they left and the students scrambled to obey. Jin always admired the cold omnipotence in his teacher's commands. He had to press down the urge to obey and join them out of habit._

 _The man and the boy walked to a ridge with a view of the distant mountain they both called home. This lookout was Mariya's favorite place, and Jin felt privileged to accompany him… even if the purpose was to scold him once again for his shortcomings. Jin took in the view and waited patiently for Mariya to speak. He was in no hurry for this lecture._

" _I believe we are at a crossroads in your training." His tone was far gentler than Jin had expected. Mariya unsheathed his sword with tender care and turned it in the sunlight for them to admire. Jin, as always, was awed by its simple, lethal beauty. For those who understood such craftsmanship, Enshirou Mariya's weapon was unparallelled._

" _I have dedicated my life to its study, and I believe I understand it very well. Jin, you remind me of this weapon in many ways: you are both true, without guile, quick, and dangerous. I respect the sword, and therefore I must respect these aspects of who you are instead of asking you to become something outside of your nature. Instead of seeking deception and looking to the next move, let this be your model. Let it guide you. Instead of misleading your opponent as a man might, you must learn to be silent: to give nothing away. You will be void of all emotions and human folly in the midst of battle, like this sword. Together we will press the philosophy of the blade to its limits. Do you understand what I am asking of you?"_

 _Jin nodded, and as he did a strange peace fell over him. He knew, without question, that his master was right. He was giving Jin permission to become his truest self. The idea of shedding all emotions for the sake of his craft and his honor felt so right. For him, emotions had only grown more troublesome since his father's death a year before. It would be a relief to be rid of them. Turning to his mentor, he vowed to apply this philosophy to every aspect of his life._

Jin often reflected on this pivotal moment for both master and student. It was the point when his ability as a swordsman- as a killer- went from average to outstanding. He was a very gifted sword. When Enshirou Mariya betrayed him, he also betrayed their life's work and the perfection they sought together became hollow. Unlike the soft malleability of flesh, metal can shatter. That betrayal had broken him, but because of his careful training he no longer knew how to mourn it. A sword has no past and no future, only the present.

Jin's attention refocused on the question he'd intended to contemplate. Why hadn't he realized this would happen?

It seemed so obvious now. The shogun sent his best to kill Fuu, but he and Mugen had sent the attackers back in pieces. What had Jin been thinking: the shogun took a vacation? That he was the forgiving kind? That he had converted? It was insane to pretend they could merrily part ways without any consequences. Far too much blood had been spilled. So Jin rolled the question around his mind, livid with himself for such carelessness.

He didn't bother to ask why Mugen hadn't realized the danger. He he could never fathom the Ryukyuan's inner workings and would begin to question his sanity immediately if he started to do so. Fuu's resilient, almost militant brand of optimism explained why she believed their troubles wouldn't follow them down their chosen dusty paths. Imagined insider her head floated fluffy clouds of forgiveness and friendship that fogged out the dishonor in others. To her, even Jin was an honorable man. He found the presumption laughable. Perhaps Jin had absorbed some of Fuu's naivete through his skin like a potion or a drug and somehow forgot the true nature of the world. He gave this new thought fair consideration before casting it aside. Fuu's relentless belief in the goodwill of others was not an ailment he was plagued with.

Jin knew better than anyone that you cannot escape consequences. Eventually the wrongs you have wrought in the world will circle back to you. In his case, they usually visited in the form of cold steel in warm hands. Every blade he encountered had reason to be thrust through his gut, and some day soon one of them would land the killing blow. For Jin, that killing blow was a foregone conclusion. It had already occurred; his debt already paid. He was simply waiting for the right sword to come and claim it, completing his circle and restoring rightness to his world.

A familiar peace originating in his throat dripped through his core, as it had that day by Enshirou Mariya's side. He had found his explanation: his reason. His time with Mugen and Fuu, though pleasant, was nothing more than a stopgap. His companions were a reprieve: a distraction from the inevitable bloody end of his life.

That was why he had parted ways without considering the shogun's retaliation. He needed return to his solitary life to complete his circle. He hadn't concern himself with the shogun because it was just another sword pricking at his back. It didn't matter to him which sword succeeded in the end. He would put one foot in front of the other, reacting with quick steel to whatever came his way as Enshirou Maryia taught him to do. A sword had no future.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you, everyone, for all the kind and thoughtful reviews, especially drealyn22. Your encouragement has improved my process tremendously.**

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Evening fell on the town, and no one emerged from the back room. Yuki slicked back a piece of hair that had loosened, heavy with sweat, as she leaned over her cooking fire and listened for any movement from her three guests.

This was crazy. She had to be crazy. These three were throat-slitters and thieves without question. The wide-eyed girl must be a distraction to lull victims to their ease, then the boys would steal whatever they could while crazy women like herself bled to death on the floorboards. She knew the type. More than that she'd heard the stories- betrayal, murder, and dishonor. She should have ordered them out on the street, but no. She was too soft and kindhearted. Yuki cursed her meddling nature as she scooped shrimp out of her sizzling pan.

It had been an hour since she'd even heard a sound, and she was starting to wonder if the wild-looking boy with tattoos had died while she made dinner. Eventually her curiosity won over common sense and she stuck her head through the door; the scent of rich oil and roasted spices following her.

Yuki's eyes grazed over the wild boy Mugen's unconscious body and she thought he rested peacefully enough. At least, his chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm, and in light of his wounds that seemed like all you could expect. The girl Fuu, however, looked seconds from collapse. She was winding and unwinding a bandage roll around her spread palm, leaning over her friend Mugen as if to catch every shallow breath as it escaped. It was hard to imagine what a wispy little thing like that was doing with these two sword-happy fools. Well, perhaps not that hard to imagine, but she wasn't one to judge. Much.

"You hungry?" she asked. The ronin who called himself Sousuke hadn't moved from his corner since she'd left, but one eye opened a crack at her question. The sheen of disinterested superiority that coated his every movement made her want to curl her lips and snarl, but she controlled herself.

"Come on, both of you. Shrimp tempura is ready for ya."

Fuu grabbed Mugen's hand, obviously torn between her hunger and her loyalty. At that moment her stomach made a noise like a like the hull of a ship snapping in two as it's pulled to the bottom of the ocean by a giant squid, and Yuki thought that was answer enough.

"Don't worry, he's not going anywhere. Come eat." Yuki turned back down the hall, trusting the smell of her exceptional cooking to lure the girl out. She felt more than heard the ronin rise and take Fuu's elbow. His footsteps were soundless, but he had a kind of presence that was hard to ignore. He just, kind of, was. She heard a warm, baritone murmur and Fuu dragging herself to her feet with a sharp sigh.

Yuki felt a familiar domestic pride in her cooking when all of Fuu's exhaustion evaporated upon sitting next to the ronin and filling her bowl. She knew, for a fact, that her shrimp tempura was perfect. The stack of empty dishes collecting in front of Fuu at an inhuman pace was even more proof of her culinary skill. Her self-satisfaction was tempered by the sight of rice hurtling through the girl's open mouth like cannon shot. It was a pretty disturbing thing to witness, but Yuki found herself staring with a fascinated disbelief against her will. She couldn't look away. Perhaps the girl kept her two companions in line by threatening to gnaw their legs off. From what she was seeing that was a real and terrifying possibility. Yuki felt a little sorry for the shrimp. Ending life in Fuu's dinner bowl was a horrible way to go.

"Thish ish funtursticsh!" Fuu managed to say without choking herself...somehow.

"This is Daiki's favorite. It's going to piss him off so much I made it while he was out- the bastard. Don't take an ungrateful husband, no matter his name. You hear me, Fuu?"

"Uhrm-herm." Bits of egg spewed across the table.

Yuki sighed. She was trying to say something important to this naive creature. This boy she sat next to with such familiarity would make a terrible husband, and she should know. Yuki knew from experience what a prison it was to take a bitter husband with a soul like granite. She had found Daiki's temperament appealing when they had first wed. His serious, single-minded pursuit of all things was a perfect counterpoint to her more relaxed ways. She liked that he pursued her with the same kind of steadfast integrity and attention he gave all things. But she soon discovered that Diako's pursuits eluded him, he took the blow hard. It turned out most of the things he pursued like prestige, name, and money often eluded him, and had all his life. He tried, oh how he tried- but it didn't seem to matter. He was no politician, and though it couldn't be argued he was an accomplished samurai in all other ways, that was the one skill he actually needed to have.

Yuki didn't wish her fate on the spirited little creature sitting across from her: to be trapped in someone else's endless loop of regret and lost honor. Everything about her was vigorous, even the way she attacked her food. Fuu's superhuman eating didn't seem to faze the ronin. He continued to eat in silence, keeping his attention locked on what food he was given, and asking for no more: the picture of self-control. The snarl threatened again, and this time she knew her thoughts were written on her face. Fuu didn't seem to notice, and the ronin pretended not to.

"When will your husband return?" Fuu asked between bites.

"That good-for-nothing fool? Not tonight, that's for sure."

The ronin looked up at that. "Oh?"

"If you're lucky you might miss him altogether. He's in a village a full day's walk from here. Not the one at the base of the mountain; the one beyond that."

Fuu frowned. "We'd like to see any friend of Ji- of Sousuke's. He said he didn't have any."

The ronin's lips tightening ever so slightly into a line. So the girl said whatever popped into her head. Yuki could work with that.

She jerked her head toward the ronin. "What, little-miss-sparkling-personality here is a loner? That's a surprise. Even his smiles look like frowns gone to seed."

Fuu looked confused. "You've seen him smile?"

"Don't need to. I can read a face. But I'd guess if- by some evil magic- this boy here were to grin his face would fall off."

Fuu nodded with a cackle that warmed Yuki's heart, but it seemed not everyone appreciated a good joke.

"We will leave tomorrow. We would not overstay your generous hospitality." The ronin's voice was tight and lean.

Yuki was of the firm belief that all men were stupid, but this one seemed especially thick. All these samurai-types thought stoicism was the same thing as wisdom. In her experience, stoicism was just another word for 'nothing interesting to say.' If he'd opened his eyes for two seconds in that back room, he would have seen the way Fuu was looking at her injured wild boy like a puppy someone had kicked. It was a universal law: never, ever threaten a girl's puppy. But of course it was too late for this bricks-for-brains, so she decided to enjoy the show.

"What is wrong with you!? Have you lost your mind? Mugen isn't going anywhere if I have to bury you neck deep in the garden- and don't think I won't either! If you even think something like that again I'll read your mind and make you regret it." Fuu's finger poked into the poor, befuddled ronin's chest. Rice cascaded from her gaping mouth and disappeared down his keikogi. If a whole shrimp popped out of that maw Yuki was going to lose all of her dinner right there. "Anyway, we can pay!" Yuki tried not to step back when the girl turned toward her even though her wrath wasn't directed her way. "We can earn money around town. I'm a hard worker and Sousuke's really good with a sword."

Yuki chuckled. "Oh I'm sure that's the truest thing you've said to me."

The ronin started at that. He gave Yuki a brief glance that said he was sizing her up. She shrugged, all blameless innocence.

"I can also cook eel."

"No, you can't. You really, really can't." Fuu pinched the bridge of her nose.

The ronin looked truly hurt by Fuu's words, but she was too wound up now to notice.

Right as Fuu was about to launch into another haranguing speech, there was a thud in the back room.

"I'll check on Mugen." Fuu darted out, leaving a suffocating vacuum in her wake. Yuki hadn't realized just how much of the room that little girl occupied until she was gone. The ronin's eyebrows edged toward each other as if in slow motion. He seemed to be compelled to fill the void but had no clue how to do it. Yuki found his torture endlessly entertaining, so she let him flounder for a long stretch until he thought of something useful to say. She wanted to see if he even could.

"I do cook eel. I was taught well."

A true conversational master she had on her hands here.

"Yeah. I'm sure it's great. But just in case it is like eating poison, I'll handle the cooking around here, okay?"

Yuki cleared away the meal's remnants with the brusque efficiency of practice. The ronin remained where he sat, his lips parted slightly as though he were about to speak, then drew together again.

"You might as well go with her, instead of getting in my way here. I have a lot to do before that no-good husband of mine gets back."

His lips parted again, but no words came out.

"Go on!" She nudged the ronin dismissively with her toe. "Whatever it is, I'm not interested."

He stood and bowed, but Yuki's back was already turned as she hunched over the fire.


	7. Chapter 7

Fuu wasn't surprised when she threw the door open and found Mugen sprawled across the floor, his limbs in all directions. The idiot had apparently stood up, because that's what bull-headed idiots did when they were sick. The thin cotton she'd draped over his exposed back was now wrapped tight around him like a rope, and the tension had reopened his wound.

"Mugen!" she reflexively shouted.

It wasn't that she expected him to answer; she could already see he'd fallen unconscious again. It was more that the word _Mugen_ had come to mean all-things-frustrating to Fuu. In circumstances where someone else might yell "Damn it!" in exasperation, his name sprang from her lips.

Fuu dropped to her knees and rolled him back on his stomach. The blood that oozed sluggishly onto the tatami mats was a revolting combination of dead black and puss-tainted pink.

"Oh, Mugen."

Fuu shook off the crushing dread that threatened to freeze her in place forever and set to work. She wasn't aware of her teeth digging into the flesh of her tongue as she cleaned away what had begun to rot. Fuu simply refused to believe after bringing this jerk back to life not very long ago her hard work would be wasted. There was no way a little flesh wound from a nobody, second-rate ninja samurai person would take Mugen to his grave.

Fuu pushed down the voice that accused her of negligence. Fuu should have been faster to clean it or at least paid attention to earlier signs. At least she could talk herself out of those scenarios by pointing out to her inner voice, that sounded alternately like Mugen or Jin depending on what she was being accused of, that they had been on the run. Because they were always on the run- going and coming, here and there and nowhere. That was the way things were. The only voice she couldn't squelch was the one that sounded like her repeating over and over in near hysterics 'you're _cursed_!' until she thought her head would explode. Everyone around her was marked for an early, painful death the moment she laid eyes on them. The old man with the sake cart was probably keeled over from a heart attack this very second.

But even though she was cursed, so were they. Mugen and Jin had the same problem; in fact they were usually the ones dealing out those early painful deaths. They were her island against a sea of ghosts that lapped around her ankles like waves. If he died-

 _No_.

Mugen's pained whine brought her back to the present and she realized she was pressing a little too hard. His eyes fluttered open long enough for him to mumble something that sounded like "stupid bitch" before he fell back asleep.

The vice that pressed her ribcage eased just a little. "Nope, of course not. You're stuck with me until I kill you. Or Jin kills you. That's just the way it's gonna be, so get used to it."

Jin's footfalls drew her attention as he stopped just behind her. She knew he was observing Mugen in the dim lamp light. She had finished re-wrapping his shoulder, but the rest of his skin was a mosaic of fiery patches amidst gray, waxy skin.

She looked up at Jin and thought perhaps she saw concern in his eyes. But maybe it was a trick of the sputtering flame.

Jin swallowed. "Infection."

Fuu decided it was concern after all- something she hadn't thought her stoic friend was capable of.

"It's not so great on this side of things, is it? Now just imagine there's two of you."

"Hn."

"Yeah, exactly."

Fuu had used the last of Yuki's clean cloth the bind Mugen's shoulder. She sighed and

dipped sleeve of her borrowed kimono into a bucket of cold water Mugen somehow hadn't tipped over in his flailing. At least that was something to be grateful for. As she worked, Jin stood silent behind her. It was amazing how much she could hear him not saying anything after so long together. Often Jin would recite short wisdoms about fish and the nature of man instead of actually saying what was in his head. It was up to Fuu to listen for what was underneath. No silence was complete. No pause was perfect. The little imperfections were like precious stones he dropped through his fingertips when he thought no one was looking. Fuu would pick them up, knowing the true value of a sideways glance or errant eyebrow twitch.

Fuu dipped her sleeve back in the bucket and pulled it across the nape of Mugen's neck. "Jin, what have you done here? Just get it over with and tell me."

She waited for him to speak, but wasn't surprised when he didn't. She pressed on, not to be ignored. "Okay let me guess- close the door." Even though the thin paper wouldn't give more than the illusion of privacy, it hissed in its slide behind her as she continued working, droplets from her sleeve soaking into the mat.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You don't know if this Daiki character will turn us in, do you?"

"It has been a long time."

"So what was your plan if that happened? If he turned us over to the shogun?"

"I did not think that far ahead."

Fuu craned her neck to look up at him. Without his signature glasses, it was easier to see the growing creases around his eyes the reflecting glass would have smoothed. The subtle shift told Fuu he was preparing for a tongue lashing and possibly a whack on the head. Another time she would have gladly obliged, but she was busy.

"I know this was your last option. I stuffed myself in a barrel, for goodness sake. If there had been a lot of options, that wouldn't have made it to the top. I know Mugen would have died in a gutter last night if we hadn't come here, and that now he has a chance. You took a risk. It was a good one. But now this Daiki's half-domestic-goddess-half-fire-breathing-dragon-of-a-wife has sheltered and fed us. You can't kill him, if that's what you were planning to do if- no, _when_ things go south."

Jin's face darkened. "It would be… dishonorable."

"Not to mention just plain rude." He conceded with a nod. "Jin, you brought us here for a reason. Figure this out."

Mugen coughed, and the effort made him groan even in unconsciousness. Fuu returned her attention to the ex-pirate. "But I've got work to do so figure it out somewhere else. Shoo!"

"Hn?"

"You heard me. Shoo!"

Grateful to have somehow avoided a knot on his skull, Jin hurried out. He slipped through a back door to avoid Yuki, who he could hear humming with no regard for key or tone or music in general near the front alcove.

He found a quiet, shadowed place under a maple just at the corner edge of the house. After a few calming breaths he mechanically moved through his favorite set of kata in order to keep his sword ready and his mind relaxed.

It was only as he stepped through the familiar first paces he processed that a fifteen year old girl in pink flowers had just _shooed_ him. When had he become so easily cowed? He thought back to the first time he'd seen her half dead in a cell. He'd thought her both insane and foolish, and he wasn't sure that first impression had been entirely discredited. After all, she had demanded two wanted killers follow her across the countryside for protection without considering who would protect _her_ from _them_.

She had assumed they were good and honorable men.

Somehow, by sheer force of will, her belief had made them good and honorable men. Not only had she given him something worth fighting for, she had made him worthy of fighting again. Jin doubted she knew what that restoration meant to him. Fuu could yell at him and order him to do a thousand mundane, normal little things and he would do them willingly because they proved she was never afraid of his edge.

Jin believed Yuki was cut from the same iron as Fuu in some ways. She was just as impossible to predict- to pin down. He felt the same unsteadiness here he'd felt just after killing Mukuro. Before pulling back the curtain, he already knew the trick was finished and he'd been played for a fool. At dinner he felt like he was grasping at smoke, which would only serve to make him look even more the fool.

But it was too late now. They were here, and he had no choice but to see it through to the end.


	8. Chapter 8

Jin stood watch over Fuu while she tended to Mugen until predawn light began to filter through the paper walls. The air of the room they shared was thick with residual oils from the lamps they'd burned all night: one next to Fuu and one next to her bag of supplies for easier access. Fuu was the first to give in to exhaustion. She curled onto her side, one arm wrapped around her knees. She told Jin she would just close her eyes for just a minute, and he pretended to believe her.

Jin fell asleep only after he saw Mugen's trembling shoulders relax into a deep, restful sleep. Fuu had done it… not that he doubted her. As Jin leaned back to rest his head on the wood framed wall behind him, a modest smile appeared on his lips. In the approaching haze of sleep he wondered how long he would have to wait to spar with his favorite opponent again.

When they awoke it again it was well into mid-morning, but Yuki had not disturbed their rest. Fuu lay a hand on Mugen's temple and gave it an approving nod. She chuckled to herself.

"He looks the way he did when I first met you." Fuu said.

Jin's eyebrows wrinkled, "In the tea house?"

"No." she smiled. "When I first _talked_ to you. Well, both of you, really. In prison."

"Ah." It was strange she would mention their first meeting as he had been thinking about it the night before. Perhaps his sudden bouts of nostalgia were rubbing off on the girl. Being in this town again surrounded by familiar things that also felt very foreign made his mind wander to the past with uncharacteristic regularity. In that prison cell, beaten and exhausted, he had been ready to face death alone knowing no one would mourn him. That memory, like so many in Jin's life, was dark and desperate. But now the memory was cloaked in fondness. On that isolated, bleak night, something he valued above all else was born.

"You both looked dead but not done fighting. Kinda worn thin."

"Worn thin." Jin rolled the image around his tongue, and found it accurate. "And how do you see me now?"

Fuu looked up at him and considered. "Hungry."

Jin raised an eyebrow. "I think that's you."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Fuu's stomach sang in accord. "Do you smell eggs?"

"Hn."

Fuu peeked under Mugen's freshly laid bandage. "Do you think he's alright for a minute?"

Jin considered the question, but not too seriously. This danger, at least, had passed. "Well he's drooling. That seems like a good sign."

"Great!" Fuu was gone before he turned his head.

Mugen slept without interruption the entire day. He made guttural sounds like a predator cat facing its prey every ten minutes or so. Jin and Fuu agreed to take turns watching him, but that plan broke apart when Yuki plowed in their small sanctuary and grabbed Jin by the ear. She dragged the stunned and mildly panicked ronin past an equally bewildered Fuu and straight to her overflowing woodpile. Then she handed him an axe, and stomped back inside. Jin couldn't see her, but he could feel her eyes on his back. Every time he attempted to reenter the house, she appeared as if by magic with some new tool attached to some arduous task. When he finally set a tentative foot on the engawa's polished planks at twilight, he sighed with relief when no dragon- woman appeared. Instead, her heard her horn-like voice bellowing from the front gate. She was berating some other unfortunate soul on the other side of the house at the moment, so (grateful it wasn't him) he took his chance and slipped inside.

By the evening's last light, Fuu took stock of her emergency medical supplies: an unfortunate necessity for their little clan. She was running low on the critical dokudami leaves that made everything she owned smell like minty fish, but saved her idiotic friends' lives on a regular basis. She frowned at her pack, willing more bandages, creams, antitoxins and herbal remedies into existence but failing to glower hard enough to get her way as usual. A familiar hand slipped onto her shoulder, accompanied by the smell of earth and salt. Jin stood above her, his face streaked with dirt. He put a finger to his lips, asking for silence. She knew that look and didn't doubt it. Fuu set her herb bundles and jars down as quietly as she could, and gave Jin a curious look. Then she heard a new voice drifting through the paper walls.

"Where is everyone?" a man's voice asked in a dreary, disinterested monotone.

"Not here." Yuki answered.

The man sighed in a way that implied he knew he wouldn't get a better answer by

pursuing the point. "I expect my household to maintain itself if I must be away, wife."

"Everything's maintained, no thanks to you." Yuki huffed.

The man made a humming sound, refusing to be antagonized. "We have servants for a reason. Do you expect me to scrub my own floors, woman?"

"I wouldn't want you to hurt your delicate samurai knees."

There were the sounds of trunks opening and closing while the man replied, with monastic severity, "We all do as we are intended to do. I serve my master, our servants serve theirs, and-I would add- you should serve yours."

Yuki snorted.

Fuu stood on her toes to whisper in Jin's ear, "Aren't you going to say 'hi'?"

Jin was very still, but Fuu knew him well enough to see the pieces shifting around in his head. He was thinking cautiously, which was something he only did when he found himself in a real corner.

"I believe... I must. There is no way around it now. Stay here."

Fuu had no intention of staying there, and they both knew it. He just felt compelled to say it. Jin took a deep breath and snapped the hilt of his katana forward into a ready position (a bad sign in Fuu's opinion), then he slid open the door. The man standing next to Yuki spun around with the grace and balance of a trained warrior at the sound.

First there was a moment of frozen shock as though time was dragged through sludge within that house. Yuki's husband had stopped breathing, his body rigid with shock. Then the man howled. "YOU!"

Swords were locked above Jin's head before Fuu could blink. "How dare you show your face in my home!"

Fuu continued to blink. She couldn't seem to stop. In front of her stood two Jins- right down to the regal nose and long-mouthed frown. This new replica Jin's hair was shorter and pulled high on his head, and he was several inches shorter and a few years older, but no amount of blinking seemed to undo her double-vision.

The two Jins stepped back to collect themselves for a new attack in the narrow hall. Fuu's Jin put her at his back to shield her, but she craned around his side to get a better look, all sense of self-preservation thrown aside. The replica charged in with two swift slices. Jin dodged the first and blocked the second, sending the replica stumbling backward. Jin shoved the gawking Fuu deeper into the hallway's darker end with his free hand, then pursued his attacker.

"You treacherous coward!" The replica swung again and Jin lept to the side, scattering embers from the dying fire behind him. The replica's teeth were bared with manic determination. "I have dreamed of this day for so long."

Jin may be a lot of things, but it rankled Fuu that anyone would call him treacherous or a coward. "Hey! What's your problem?" she snapped.

The replica noticed Fuu for the first time. His sharp eyes darted from one trespasser to the other, as if he were uncertain whether to answer her question or continue his assault. While he was thinking he should have considered watching his back. Yuki slammed a ceramic pot into the top of the replica's head and it shattered, shards skittering across the floor. Her husband crumpled to the tatami mat at her feet in a very undignified pile, his topknot now askew.

"Jin." Yuki said.

Jin's head shot up, his eyes wide.

She knew his name, and the nonplussed way she folded her arms across her chest told Jin she had known it from the beginning. Jin steeled himself, sword still ready for defense. He had no strategy- no plan to guide them through these uncertain waters. Daiki's response had been one he had considered. It was predictable. Yuki, however, continued to surprise him, and it was crumbling his typical surefootedness. Though his facade remained calm, he was unraveling within. Would Yuki attack them next? And with what? He wouldn't put it beyond the woman to hide explosives in her kimono just in case.

But she simply tossed the base of the pot still in her hand near where her husband's sword had fallen and wiped her hands on the front of her kimono.

"Clean this mess up." was all the dragon-woman said before stomping out of the house and into the garden. She turned back when she reached the last step. "And by 'this' I mean your brother."

"Ooooooh." Fuu said. That made a lot of sense to her. They had the same attack-first-catch-up-on-old-times-later way about them. Her time spent in tea houses kicked in and she instinctively bent down to collect and pile the shards.

Jin sheathed his sword and looked down at his unconscious brother, his expression impassive as stone. Daiki's face was rounder-softer- than Jin remembered. He was also much shorter than the lithe, nimble teen in his memory. A patch of gray hair dusted his right temple that made him look like their father, and Jin reached up to his head, wondering if his own was just a few years away.

Jin had barely raised his sword in time, because it had felt like raising it against his own father. Now he would have to explain himself. It wasn't something he was accustomed to doing, nor something he was especially skilled at. Jin had run. He had hidden like a coward from this fate, denying he had a family and a history. But just like Mariya's students who dotted his travels, there was no hope of avoiding what must be forever.

He caught Fuu's eye. "This is a long time coming."

The problem he understood was at his feet, the problem he did not was fuming in the night. His brother may have a score to settle with him, but Jin didn't even think to consider if Fuu would be safe virtually alone in the house with the man who wanted him dead more than any other. Daiki was, in some part of Jin's mind, still his idolized older brother. He followed Yuki outside.

"Hey, where are you going?" Fuu whined. "Get back in here and help me!"


	9. Chapter 9

I don't own Samurai Champloo.

CHAPTER NINE

Yuki stood next to a stone lantern in the middle of her ornate garden like an empress holding court. She was waiting for him.

"You know who I am?"

"A blind man could tell the second you showed up. It's like looking in a mirror, but back in time." She folded her arms and jutted out her leg, relaxed and unmovable.

"And you still let us in. You still helped us."

Yuki gave a heavy sigh that ruffled stray strands of her hair. "You missed our wedding."

Of all the accusations he expected, that wasn't anywhere near the top of Jinn's list. "Daiki wanted me to focus on my studies. He said any trips home would be a distraction."

"He was very proud of the samurai you had become. You hadn't been here in a very long time. I got the impression it had been years."

Jin nodded.

"Somewhere along the way you became the 'great heir' that would save the family name, not his brother. But look at you. Somehow you came out exactly the same."

"I doubt that very much."

Yuki clicked her tongue, but didn't defend her assertion. Jin could see she thought it was so obvious it didn't need defending. "It makes me wish I'd met your father. He must have been something to leave such an imprint on both his sons."

"He was an honorable man."

Yuki huffed. "Honor, honor. The day news came of our supposed family disgrace Daiki lost something- like he had known one world his whole life and now everything he touched was unrecognizable. The universe had shifted without him and he couldn't find his place. Sound familiar?" She stared at him, unblinking. Jin felt her eyes rummaging through his soul and turned away. "Now as for me? I thought to myself 'What is a master doing in a student's bed in the middle of the night?' Of course, I can think of a lot of things, but none of them involve being fully clothed with a sword in hand. He went to kill you while you slept, didn't he?"

Jin said nothing.

"Of course. You want to keep Mariya's honor. Everyone wants to protect Mariya's honor. He was a capable man. He should have done that for himself."

Yuki waited, but Jin still didn't reply.

"I saved your friend's life and most likely yours as well. You must be asking yourself what I expect in return. You know what I want? My arrogant, steel-willed, self-righteous husband back. The man I married three years ago. You broke it; now fix it."

Fuu eyed the unconscious samurai. He had the Jin's same skin: the color of bleached bone, but it looked softer than his brother's. Vagrancy had worn Jin rough in ways Fuu hadn't noticed until she had something to compare it to. Where Jin was sharp edges and lithe limbs, Daiki was layered bands of muscle. It was like comparing a deer to a bull. The resemblance, however, was unmistakable. As Fuu drew closer she noticed that the crinkled places where Jin wore sadness in a permanent mask, Daiki wore anger.

Daiki shot up with a blade at Fuu's throat before she could make a sound.

"Who are you, another assassin for hire?"

"Um." Fuu squeaked. "No assassins here. I was just cleaning."

He assessed her thoroughly before lowering his wakizashi. "You look like a nice girl."

"I know. That's what I keep trying to tell people."

"Are you that murderer's captive?"

Fuu bit the edge of her lip. She'd been captive of a lot of people, but never her two bodyguards. The brother still had his hand on his sword so she didn't want to anger him, but she was lost in this conversation. If she were honest, there were quite a few people who might legitimately claim vengeance on her friends. It wouldn't be the first time. Maybe he had a valid accusation? "What exactly are we talking about?"

"Jin. The coward murderer of Enshirou Mariya."

Despite her fear Fuu couldn't help herself. She laughed. The thought of Jin as a coward was too absurd. Murderer? That would be depend on the definition you used. But never a coward. "You've got the wrong story, mister. Trust me, I met the guy responsible for that death. He tried to kill me too. Some stone-eyed jerk with a big hat who called himself the Hand of God or something stupid like that."

Daiki tensed. "You were targeted by Kariya Kagetoki? Why?"

Fuu shrugged. "As if I know."

"And you lived? How is that possible?"

"Oh. Jin saved me, obviously."

Daiki stood up and paced the room, oblivious to the crunching embers and clay beneath him. "Are you saying Jin- my brother Jin- defeated Enshirou Mariya and Kariya Kagetoki in fair combat?"

"Yeah." Fuu stood as well and dusted off her ever-tattered clothes, frowning. She could never keep them clean for more than five minutes. "He's one of the best swordsmen I've ever seen, and for some reason I've seen a lot. One time he beat a guy with a gun. Still not sure how he did that."

Daiki stopped suddenly, his gaze trained on the hilt of his own katana. "Then he is a greater warrior than I could ever hope to be."

"Well yeah." Fuu said. "No offense."

Yuki was finished with Jin. He couldn't tell if her disgusted mumbling as she stomped off was directed at him or residual frustration with his brother.

His brother-his family.

He reached down and caressed a white bud about to blossom in Yuki's carefully tended garden and contemplated how one might fix something so utterly beyond repair. Unbidden, the sound of his sword sliding within Enshirou Mariya torso echoed in his ears. He cringed. Jin shook his head and reminded himself that the sword that killed Mariya and Yukimaru was broken now. He had a new daisho, given to him in gratitude for his service to Fuu. He had imagined that the bloodstains splattered across his past were left behind to rust in sand and salt alongside his shattered blade. At least his incessant nightmares had stopped after that day. But standing here in this place he realized his foolishness. The past would always follow him, and as with Yukimaru he would always have to cut it back to keep it at bay. There was not fixing what was beyond repair, you could only salvage what you can and let fate run its course.

Jin realized Fuu other voices were murmuring. Fuu and her brother were talking inside. In his confusion he'd left Fuu defenseless to answer for his crimes. He cursed his continued negligence of duty. The night would not continue to hide him from consequences. He took a deep, controlled breath and ascended the steps. Daiki and Fuu were not in the still-wrecked room he had left them in. He followed the sound of voices and was awash with relief when he heard another, familiar rasp join in.

"Stop poking me, both of you." Mugen growled. "Go play doctor somewhere else."

"Mugen!"

"Ow, stop crushing me! Get off, crazy bitch!"

"Stop complaining. I'm not hurting you and I am going to hug you so deal with it."

Jin chose to step back and remain just outside of view, and told himself it had nothing to do with his own cowardice. He just wanted to bask in this small victory.

"What's going on, anyways? Wh- fish-face? What happened to you?"

"Fish-face?" Daiki ventured.

"He means Jin. This is his brother, Daiki."

"That bastard's got family? Who knew? So we've had some good luck, for once. Maybe not everyone on the planet wants to kill us."

Fuu laughed uncomfortably.

Jin decided his time was up. He'd asked too much of Fuu already. When he rounded the door frame he found his brother and Fuu crouched over a dazed Mugen with their backs to the door, defenseless. Jin smirked; at least his brother credited him with enough honor that he wouldn't run him through from behind.

"I've seen many wounds like this in my time, but never one healed so well and so quickly. You are a skilled girl."

Fuu blushed. Jin marvelled that she had charmed yet another to her side. She was just as skilled at getting others to see her heart as she was healing.

"Hey, what about me? I'm putting in all the blood and sweat here. Literally." It was a skill Mugen had not yet learned.

Fuu flicked Mugen's nose with her thumb. "Ow! Why do you keep hurting me?"

Daiki stood and smoothed his gi. "You should be ready for travel in five days. Slow, cautious travel. You can stay here until then." For the first time, Daiki looked at Jin.

 _Such generosity._ _At what price_? Jin thought.

"For too long our family has lived in dishonor. Our name is synonymous with betrayal and I- we cannot continue under the weight of this burden. It must be restored, and there is only one way to restore it."

Jin knew that others would miss the strain and longing hidden underneath his brother's even tone. He had been gone a long time, but Jin still remembered. He'd returned as if from the dead, and it was tearing them both into pieces. But, Mugen and Fuu would be safe, at least for now. It was a fair trade. Jin bowed deeply to his brother. "Thank you."

Daiki bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

"What the hell was that? What's going on here?"

"In five days we will fight to the death." Jin knelt next to Mugen and inspected his shoulder for himself. Daiki was right; five days would be enough.

"How did you even get there from that…?" Mugen coughed and lay back on the mattress. "I'm out for five minutes and all hell breaks loose."

"Jin, no, you can't. He's your family." Fuu grabbed his arm, hoping to shake sense into him. "Take it from someone who doesn't have any; it's too precious to throw away like this."

"I won't disgrace him further by running away in the middle of the night. Again. If I had stayed where I belonged in the first place, my brother would not have been shamed. It is an act I deeply regret. A fight is what he has asked of me. I will give it to him."

"But if you hadn't left you wouldn't have met us." The wavering in Fuu's voice stuck Jin, and he covered her small hand with his long fingers.

"She's got a point there, pastey. You would have missed all of this fun: stabbings, explosions, near drownings… You'd be a mindless samurai zombie growing fat off the shogun without us. Admit it." Mugen was clutching the mattress in an attempt to keep the pain and exhaustion from showing in his face.

The corners of Jin's mouth rose slightly. "I could never regret searching for the samurai who smells of sunflowers. I didn't mean to imply that. Forgive me."

"Jin-" Fuu started.

"Stop worrying, girlie. Four-eyes is gonna kick his ass."

Jin fell into silence.


End file.
